Warhammer: I don't want to become a stinky can!

Luo Jia said this.

+If you and this lady don't succeed—then Mortalian will come—the good news is we have at least several chances—this demonstrates the benefits of having many offspring. +

But we still hope you can succeed on your first try—you have the best chance of winning.

Instead of letting Mortarion come, let Mortarion from another destiny line try first... Luo Jia thought... The Emperor probably still believed that the chances of winning this time were extremely high.

Therefore, he was even less willing to sacrifice himself again.

+and...+

Luo Jia said,

+Pluto also exists in multiple dimensions; what you see now is all of him, the essence of all projections, the unity of all things.+

Chapter 889 [331] Return to One

[Hades?]

Hades?

Hades.

Ah...yes, this name—the first word he heard upon entering this world, strange and eerie, but which gradually became familiar to him over time.

However, Hades sometimes had some doubts—what kind of good person would name their child Hades? This might be related to the extremely strong culture of death on Barbarossa. In any case, he just called him that name without thinking about it. Apart from his followers, Hades himself never thought much about it.

This is another kind of collapse.

Another manifestation of destiny—He is Hades, and Hades is him. This is why he descended upon Barbarossa. Among all the reflected destinies, there is only this path to godhood.

Everything else failed.

Those who died in Barbaros, those who died in Terra, those who died in Fenris, those who died on Mars, those who died on Horus's ship that year... all sorts of strange and varied deaths.

There are other failed endings: some perished midway, forming a permanent warp black hole; some were imprisoned somewhere in the warp by the combined forces of the Primarchs; and some were successfully contained by Talazin.

He was the closest to success—before all his destinies collapsed, he was the most successful one; after his destinies collapsed, there was only one answer, regardless of success or failure.

He is the true self.

Hades was not surprised.

He now maintains a high level of acceptance of everything that happens, and nothing can stir his emotions anymore. After experiencing many absurd joys and sorrows, he now has a detached and indifferent attitude.

This may also be related to His urgent need to ascend to godhood. He could feel that powerful force surging into his divine realm, and everything was ascending to a higher dimension, rising into the sky.

He vaguely saw many things, far more than before: human souls and demon souls that had been devoured but had not yet been extinguished, floating in the sea of ​​darkness. Now it seemed that He could no longer deny that He was not a god.

He is Hades.

Past, present, future, unborn, and deceased.

Gods are always one level and dimension higher.

God has a mission.

Hades has a mission.

Swallow.

He knew perfectly well what he had to do: devour, swallow everything, and plunge all things into eternal silence, into a desolate despair, and the Milky Way slept in peace.

Millions of years later, new species adapted to the underworld will reappear, flourishing, thriving, clashing, and perishing.

Reincarnation begins anew, and all taboos are lifted.

This seems to be touching on the core of the problem, a question that the Primarchs and the Emperor have consistently avoided discussing, or perhaps considered to have already been answered with a standard answer—

Do you want to become a god? Or do you want people to continue to eke out a living?

Before this, Neos and Hades would firmly answer: For the sake of humanity—what good are gods?

But in the moments between ascension, amidst countless bursts of psychic energy and power, they will hesitate, realizing how ridiculous and narrow-minded their past thoughts were, before becoming Lords of Darkness—

You will always have a place in the pantheon of the warp, and you can freely manipulate the races of the galaxy, enter into a greater game, and even recreate a race to help it prosper and last forever.

The allure of Hades is even greater.

The Dark Lord is only one of the eight gods; the ugly side of the other chaos gods is not unheard of.

But Hades is unique, the only winner from the battle between the Star Gods and the Dimensions. He will rule the laws of the galaxy, completely cleanse the subspace, and annihilate all life in the current universe.

Then He can paint as He pleases in this empty galaxy, creating whatever He desires, creating new races that do not need to depend on the Warp.

The Milky Way will be His monotheistic game.

How could this not be tempting? Humans, this short-sighted species, spend their entire lives pursuing only to make themselves a little more comfortable and to raise their status. Inertia and desire are eternal themes that run through humanity.

Hades remained silent.

He remained silent, letting the instinct of his own power pull him forward. He felt immense hunger, and no matter how much he chewed, he was not satisfied. Perhaps he truly was a glutton, without a belly.

Chewing and devouring, He was powerful enough that the cries and resistance of His prey were utterly useless. He heard Slaanesh's shrieks, He heard Tzeentch's curses, He heard... the Black King's laughter.

He stopped caring.

The games played out in the chaos are absurd and boring, with each side wary of and pulling at the others. But in the face of true and absolute power, they are nothing more than child's play, devoured by any schemes or plans, never to be seen again.

He is not thinking about anything now, nor is he able to think about anything.

He only wanted to quickly finish eating everything in front of him, let everything quiet down, and return to His underworld—the filthy and foul divine realm in the eyes of the warp creatures.

He was right there, silent.

until--

[Hades?!]

It seems He has ingested something extraordinary.

....................................

"Motalian?!?"

[Herella] shrieked as the Great Demon awoke from the brink of death, half-asleep, her serpentine tail tightly wrapped around a large tree, her hands gripping the Primarch tightly. But [Mortalian] had already risen halfway into the sky, being pulled by the storm as they plummeted together.

I'll go first.

Mortarian's voice trembled slightly, and a faint psychic light flickered in his hand, so precious and insignificant in the falling darkness.

[I need to awaken Him—Luojia said it's possible. Herrera, I'll go first. Please remember to look for Karas when you get there; I'm worried he might be bullied by the people here.]

"You motherfucker, Mortalian!!! I'm the one who bullied Karas the most—and you're going to leave first again?! Just like everyone else!!!"

[Luojia promised me your life, and although I don't believe him, I still hope you can continue on, at least leaving some trace for our world—Herrera, Slaanesh is completely finished, and you will no longer be affected by him—I'm sorry about what happened back then.]

With an irresistible force, the Primarch slowly loosened Herrera's grip on his hand and rose little by little into the sky.

That terrifying darkness—just a glance from Herrera felt like it would make her faint. The scene was like purgatory: Slaanesh's shattered body being pulled into the darkness, along with Tzeentch struggling like a worm, and the half-dead Black King trying his best to pupa upwards. Accompanied by screams, cries, and laughter, and by the ignorant and insensitive act of chewing, the food scraps flowed down, turning into screaming demons.

[I have to leave; they targeted me from the beginning. But you're different; you have a chance to survive.]

"Is it because I am insignificant?"

Herrera laughed, releasing her snake tail that had instinctively clung to the tree, preparing to ascend to heaven with Mortarion.

But the Primarch didn't give her that chance. Mortalian was cruel, thinking it was for Herrera's own good—

Or perhaps Herrera's thoughts were even more depraved; Mortarian simply didn't want anyone else to fall into the Dark Realm with him.

In short, the glimmer of psychic energy appeared, and Herrera fell into unconsciousness again—while Mortarion released his grip and plummeted high and far towards Hades—as resolutely as a bird falling into the sea.

In the distance, Luo Jia raised his head, tears streaming down his sewn-up eyes. At his feet lay countless white scars and the corpses of space wolves. In the dense jungle, the corpses of the Space Marines were as numerous and gruesome as a school of dead fish falling from the sky.

May fate protect you.

Luo Jia muttered to herself and quickened her pace again.

....................................

He heard that call amidst wine and meat.

Hades blinked. He sat regally on his throne. The gold and silver jewels looted from Slaanesh were piled up at his feet like mountains. Colorful and blue feathers were scattered and spread out like a thick carpet. Many feathers fell on his body and head, but he did not shake them off. He sat there casually, letting all the splendor and color slowly disappear around him and become part of himself.

He simply sat there lazily, as if he had always been there, and the waterfall of psychic energy cascaded down, and millions of years passed in this way.

[...Hades?]

Hades blinked again, straightened up somewhat confused, and then saw the Primarch walking from the other side of the door. The slightly thin Primarch was dressed in a plain robe, walking cautiously with one foot deep and one foot shallow, stepping over the corpses of countless demons and human souls, passing over the remains of Slaanesh, passing over the mud of Nurgle, passing over the weapons of Khorne, passing over the lies of Tzeentch, passing over countless black, white, gray, dirty and chaotic things.

Hades tilted his head in confusion.

He was trying very hard to remember who the visitor was. The projections and reflections of fate throughout the ages had long since confused perception and memory, decorating them into a beautiful and complex kaleidoscope.

Mortarian lowered his head, perhaps realizing why it was him—and not another Mortarian. The reason was simple: he was better suited to the art of negotiation and language, and the Hades before him was not the "Hades" of the past.

Alright, that's enough, we can't go any further—[Motalian] stopped some distance from the high throne, he could feel himself melting and disintegrating, the closer he got to Hades, the faster he melted.

Mortarian took a deep breath, but also felt a little smug. This way, Hades was neither the Hades he knew nor the Hades he was familiar with, which was fairer. Besides, he now knew that Hades also had a shadow of that Hades in this Hades—that was good too.

Although there is a main body, there can only be one true master.

[You don't remember me, Hades?]

[Motalian] forced himself to lift his head, only to be met with a darkness that made him tremble. Just like a slime lying on a divine throne, [Motalian] forced a smile.

You don't remember me.

+……+

+Motalian?+

There is still a good thing: he has not yet fully ascended to godhood and still retains a faint sense of self.

The story has been reversed. Ten thousand years ago, Hades cautiously advised the Primarch to act prudently; ten thousand years later, it's Mortarion's turn to advise Hades—one wonders if Hades' feelings back then were similar to his feelings now.

Mortarian pondered deeply, considering how to use words to awaken Hades. He felt immense pressure and relief; after all, only he could do this.

We...we're all waiting for you to come back.

[Motalian] said,

[Are all humans waiting for this?!]

[Motalian] almost shuddered and collapsed backward. Hades suddenly stood up, and the black slime suddenly swelled up, becoming even more terrifying, like a giant god.

+Humans. +

Hades said it was like a parrot mimicking speech.

+Humans. +

Humans...?

He repeated it, as if [Motalian] had triggered some keyword.

+Humans—ah! I remember now. +

Hades slapped his forehead and laughed. He had devoted himself to the empire for thousands of years, and the moments when he was clear-headed were when he was thinking about infrastructure and fighting. But in the end, it was all for the future of the race. If he were really greedy for personal feelings, he would have stopped ten thousand years ago.

It all boils down to four words: "Since we're already here."

He felt he should drift along and struggle a little longer, but it seemed that another version of himself from another time and dimension was superimposed on Hades here, making it easier for him to regain his senses.

Hades slowly descended the high steps, tilting his head to stare at Mortarion. Mortarion seemed to suddenly feel lost and bewildered after Hades regained consciousness.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Mortarian.

Hades knew that Mortarion could not return; the Primarch had entered the Dark Realm with a death wish.

[I understand now why it was you, why you are Hades, and why they were all so happy to see it.]

[Motalian] said, his face ashen; he seemed deeply affected.

[You awoke at the mention of humanity—you are more qualified and better suited for this path than anyone else—I understand why the Emperor supported your ascension to godhood.]

He had previously mistakenly believed that Hades' anchor was in Barbaros, in the Death Guard, or, to be even more selfish, but then he realized with a pale heart that Hades' true anchor was in humanity, without needing to say more.

Hades himself had already learned some lessons from his countless previous outbursts of loss of control.

+But I saw you first before I started thinking back,+

Hades comforted him, saying that although he didn't know exactly how they ended up sending this [Motalian], he still had absolute humanistic concern, or rather, empathy.

+Sadness will pass...Would you like to spend some time with the Hades you know? I can't send you back; the Underworld is a one-way street right now, but you can go see the one you know before you fall asleep. +